Obstruction
by dazzledeyes
Summary: He'd gotten pretty good at playing the part. If he didn't think about it too much, he could almost bear it. Post season finale. SPOILERS. Bittersweet CB.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **No, I don't own Gossip Girl, because if I did, none of the things I'm writing about would even be happening in the first place.

**AN: Hi, guys...I'm not dead. :) It's been FOREVER since I've posted anything new, but I just had an urge to start writing this week, and so came up with this...it was originally going to be a one-shot, and then a two-shot, and now I have no idea how long it's going to be. At this point I'm thinking four parts, but we'll see. It's completely based on season four spoilers, right down to the clothes, so if you don't want to know any of that, just stop reading right now, lol. It's not necessarily what I think is going to happen, just one of many possible scenarios. This story is kind of a departure from what I usually do, meaning I'm having to get more creative with events since I'm not writing from the show, so we'll see what happens... I wasn't so sure about posting this, since I don't think it's perfect or even very good at all, but I've really missed writing fic and I just wanted to get this up so that I'd have motivation to continue. So please review, it will make my day. :) **

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**OBSTRUCTION. [**ob. struc. tion.**]** noun. a thing that impedes or prevents passage or progress; an obstacle or blockage. ie; **changing who you are won't get you anywhere. **

Three months, one week and three days.

That's how long it had been since he'd last seen her. He'd kept up a running count in his head, and he honestly wasn't sure why. He was trying to forget, that's what this summer had been all about. Failing to remember, moving on. Turning into a person he'd never thought he'd become, and doing away with everything that made him who he had been.

It was for the best, he assured himself every day, as he walked back and forth from his small apartment instead of being chaffeured, as the hot sun beat down on his back while he ate at dirty outdoor cafés, as he kissed someone that wasn't her. There was nothing left for him back home. Everyone had despised him when he'd left; his many mistakes had taken a toll on their opinions of him, and a romantic or helpful gesture wouldn't change his unlucky cards. No one had come looking when he'd disappeared, and although he hadn't as much as rung home the entire time he'd been away, there had been no worried phone calls or letters or even texts. No one could care less.

He'd spent a few weeks in a hospital in Prague, recovering, hooked up to all sorts of machines, on all sorts of medications, but he honestly couldn't stand it there, and as soon as he had the strength, he left. There was something so horrible about hospitals, anyway…the way people would take their last breaths or gasps in each room and then they'd be swept away and everything would be cleaned and sanitized, like nothing had ever happened. Like they'd never lived. It made him feel sick to his stomach to contemplate, and all he had to occupy himself as he sat in that tiny white room, day in and day out, was contemplate.

But really, if he thought about it, the sanitizing what he was doing with his life now. Sweeping everything away, all the bad parts. The good parts too, he guessed, although they weren't so good anymore. He tried not to concentrate on that, though. It wasn't important, he was starting over. That was exactly the reason that he'd headed to Paris as soon as he could convince the doctors to let him leave, and although he still had a bit of a limp and occasional jolting, excrutiating pains that shot through his body like electricity, he figured he was doing all right. Phyiscally, at least. He'd never been very good at figuring out the emotional stuff. As a matter of fact, those emotions were exactly what he'd been running away from when he decided to pretend to be who he was now: Charles Connors, a working-class waiter. He'd gotten pretty good at playing the part. If he didn't think about it too much, he could almost bear it.

"Charles!" He heard a voice calling him from behind, and he whipped around, flinging the towel he was using to dry dishes over his shoulder. "Your shift is up, you can leave now." The voice came from the chef at the restaurant where he had taken a job. Eight hours a day and the pay was horrible, but money was never the problem.

"Thanks." Chuck forced a smile, adjusting his vest. He still hadn't gotten used to his new uniform of sorts. He'd been wearing nothing but luxury clothing for years: cashmere sweaters, bespoke suits and silk pajamas, in a constant rotation. The feel of a plain button-down shirt and simple black jeans was one he still hadn't gotten used to. Sometimes Chuck wished he could just pull out a purple bowtie, as if putting it on would solve all of his problems, help him figure out exactly what he was supposed to be doing.

"And there's a girl outside that says she's waiting for you. A blonde." The chef (his name was something French that Chuck, having never quite mastered the language, couldn't understand through his thick accent) remarked, raising his eyebrows. Chuck's smile grew slightly. It had to be Eva. Pleasantly beautiful and gently charming, she'd been there for him from the moment that he'd left the hospital in Prague. She'd been in town visiting friends, and after an accidentally run-in on the street (Chuck hadn't yet mastered the art of walking with his newfound injuries), a few dates and drinks they'd decided to spend some time in Paris. She was a sweet girl, she really was. But Chuck didn't do sweet, and he couldn't help feeling like something was missing in their relationship. Maybe the fact that he'd gotten into a relationship with her after just a few dates, when it had taken him two years for him to get himself together for the _other_ her. Blair.

Or maybe the fact that he wasn't being honest with her. He couldn't be. She was under the impression that he was of humble upbringing, nothing like his actual lavish Upper East Side origins. And she didn't know that the name on his birth certificate was Bass, not Connors. And she had no idea that he'd been mugged in Prague not for his wallet but for an engagement ring that he was planning to give to the love of his life. She just couldn't know, it would defy the purpose of starting over.

And he had to start over.

Chuck pushed open the heavy swinging doors that separated the kitchen from the small café, scanning the crowd of patrons for Eva's soft, wavy hair and her narrow shoulders clad one of those simple cotton blouses that she was fond of. But instead of seeing her waiting for him by a table in the front like she was most days when he got off of work, he saw a very different blonde. Dressed in a bold-shouldered gold jacket, blue pants and studded heels, she looked completely out of place in the quaint restaurant, even more so because she was surveying the crowd wildly, like she was looking for someone. Chuck narrowed his eyes in her direction. It almost looked like…_shit_.

Chuck practically slammed his back into the wall right by the doors, ignoring the stinging pain for fear that Serena would spot him. How could he be such an idiot, to choose the one city in Europe that people from back home visited more frequently than anywhere else to make his escape? What if she saw him?

And what if she wasn't alone?

Through all of his long summer days spent with Eva, to be honest, every time he walked down the streets of Paris, all he saw was Blair: early-morning strolls in the crisp air for buttery croissants at an outdoor café, sun-drenched afternoons shopping with a potential dressing-room rendezvous included, late nights and long dinners before laying in bed, arms and legs tangled together in the sheets, perfectly content with simply each other's warmth and company...that had been them, just a year ago. It was almost comical how much things could change, and as hard as he tried, he couldn't forget that. But he couldn't confront it either. Things might be different now, but they were easier. Or at least closer to easy. It would probably be easier if he was as happy as he pretended to be.

Taking a long, deep breath to steady himself, he pushed himself off the wall with his free hand, using the other to hold the cane that he tended to need to keep himself upright and walking somewhat normally. A few quick, limping steps later and he was out of Serena's viewpoint and out the door.

Right outside, sitting at a metal table with its flat surface curled into intricate designs, Eva was reading a paperback book, the wind ruffling her hair and its pages as she took in the words. Apparently hearing the scuffling of Chuck's footsteps, she looked up and her face broke into a wide smile. "Charles!" she flipped the book shut and clutched it in one hand as she stood, hugging him gently and turning her face for a kiss.

Suddenly, Chuck heard someone clear their throat, directly behind him. He turned slowly, almost knowing who would be there. As per his prediction, it was Serena: hands on hips and mouth turned down, waiting.

Chuck had no idea what to do. He hadn't thought of a story, he didn't stop to think that his lies could catch up with him. He should have known that they always did. He had the urge to grab Eva and take off, calling a cab to the airport and heading somewhere remote and not at all locatable; the urge to talk to Serena, to ask her where Blair was and if she cared where _he _was; the urge to vomit and leave, hopefully not in that order.

And he couldn't decide which would get him out of this mess.

So he didn't do anything. He just stood there, his golden brown eyes staring into Serena's, which were filled with a mixture of worry and haughty defiance. He just stood there, the wind blowing his unkept hair into his work-weary face. He just stood there as Eva slipped her hand into his and looked up at him questioningly, her eyes wide and comforting. And then his stomach churned warningly and he couldn't take any of those things anymore, so he spoke.

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**AN: Ta-da. *cringes* Next part to come soon...I hope. Please review, constructive criticism and all. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **No, I don't own Gossip Girl, because if I did, none of the things that I'm writing about would be happening in the first place.

**AN: So here it is! Part 2! A lot faster than I thought, assuming that I had no idea where to go from the end of the first part, lol. But I got so much positive feedback on my last chapter that I just had to get it up soon (check below for a thank you to all of the reviewers). I'm so glad you guys like what I'm writing and I'm very excited to keep going with this story now that I have some sort of idea of the actual plot. This part has more dialogue than the last one, and if you've read any of my other stories, you'd know that I kind of have a dialogue issue. *lol* I prefer to show rather than tell, but that can get exhaustive. So here's my attempt at writing legit scene with people talking. :o Let's see what happens, lmao.**

**Thank you to: daisyeve**, **MrsCullen-Bass**, **Itconsumesme**, **gleefulvall**, **Gem15stone**, **SaturnineSunshine**, **HnM skinnys**, **Maedy**, **awakeningezgi**, **spottielight**, **bonafide11**, **svenjen**, **ChairLoveK **and **HJiloveyou**. You all are awesome, please keep reviewing! It honestly makes my day every time. :)

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**OBSTRUCTION. [**ob. struc. tion.**]** noun. a thing that impedes or prevents passage or progress; an obstacle or blockage. ie; **the truth should stop you from lying**.

"Serena…what are you doing here?" As soon as he said it, Chuck realized that those words were unnecessary. It wasn't that much of a stretch to imagine Serena coming to Paris for a vacation, especially during the summer. It was just that he'd never expected to see someone from home. He hadn't even though abouot it, hadn't dealt with the issue. He hadn't ruminated on an excuse or thought about the future, if he would ever go back. Chuck wasn't a big believer in fate, but he should have been sure there had to be some force out there in the universe that was going to make him think about it eventually. And right now it was in the form of Serena van der Woodsen, staring him down.

"I should be asking you the same question, Chuck!" Serena uncrossed and then recrossed her arms against her slouchy white top, obviously thinking she looked very threatening. "The last anyone heard from you, you were in Prague, probably losing brain cells and sleeping with every hooker you could come across, hmm, Chuck?"

Chuck couldn't look her in the eyes. He bit his lip and focused his caramel eyes on a faded spot on the sidewalk. She was right, that was exactly what he had been doing. And normally he would have had no shame admitting that. He probably would have offered to go into detail on exactly what he did with each of those women, and followed up Serena's inevitable, "You're disgusting" with an, "I'm Chuck Bass." But that was before he'd almost bled to death in an abandoned alley and decided his usual coping methods weren't quite enough this time.

Eva was still holding his hand, seemingly trying to gauge if it would be a good idea to step in and defend him. Chuck had to admit having her next to him felt nice, but he would prefer to be comforted by someone that actually knew the real him, the Chuck that had lots of sex and drank lots of scotch and leered at every woman on the street until he fell in love. She didn't know him, so she couldn't stand up for him, not really. She didn't know what he'd done, what he was capable of, and usually that felt nice. No pretenses, no "I'm Chuck Bass" here. But right now it felt stifling, and he felt like more of a liar than ever.

Serena took Chuck's silence correctly, as an agreement with the things that she'd listed. She stepped one step closer, her stiletto heels clicking on the concrete. "And who's this? Another one of your whores?"

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Blair sighed, her wooden-soled ankle-strap sandals tapping against the thinly carpeted floor. Her cab was stuck in traffic, _again_, and the worst part was, the driver had no idea where he was going. She was supposed to meet Serena for a late lunch at their hotel, but it looked like she was going to be late. Pulling out her phone, she sent Serena a quick text, saying that she'd be there as soon as she could.

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"Actually, this is my girlfriend," Chuck said, pulling Eva closer. He could feel her body stiffen slightly as she resisted, but he ignored it. As soon as Serena left, he would come up with some other story to tell her, and everything would be okay. It had to be. She was his link to this life, his one big step in starting anew. "Eva, Serena. Serena, Eva."

"Girlfriend?" Serena's face was incredulous for a moment, and then she went back to glaring at him. "Yeah, right. Chuck, you're getting more and more transparent. If this is just another plot to get Blair back, you can forget it. I'm not going to let you put her through hell again. You've hurt her enough, she needs to move on."

Chuck felt his heart stop at the mention of her name. It suddenly felt so wrong to have Eva wrapped in his arms, and he took a step away. "Wait, Blair's here?" his voice came out somewhere between a gasp and a choke, and his heart sped up as he imagined her in whole: her soft dark curls, porcelian skin, red lips, and the way he felt coming inside of her…

"Yes, _Chuck_." Serena spat out his name pointedly, snapping him back to earth. She said his name like it disgusted her. It probably did. "I thought it would be a good idea for her to get away from the city, after everything. You of all people should understand. Or is that beyond you?"

"No," Chuck managed. "I think I got it."

"Good." Serena rolled her eyes in his direction, reaching into the bag that was slung on her shoulder as her phone chimed. She flipped it open. "Oh, look, that's her now. I'm going to meet her for lunch." She stepped to the curb, almost tottering on her heels, and waved her arm for a taxi. "Don't get any ideas."

Eva turned to him, speaking for the first time since Serena had confronted them. "Charles, what's going on?" Her eyes were full of confusion, and Chuck felt horrible that he could hardly focus on her with thoughts of Blair swimming in his head.

Serena looked back at them as she stepped into the cab that screeched to a halt by the curb, saying something to the driver in French. "Yeah, Chuck, why don't you tell her? It sounds like you've got a lot of explaining to do." She slammed the door, and the cab pulled out into traffic. Chuck stared at the car as it pulled away. Serena's remarks had been even more scathing than usual, but he understood. He was Chuck Bass, he was an asshole, he'd just broken her best friend's heart, and, as usual, no one trusted him. Only this time, he knew why.

Reluctantly, Chuck looked down at Eva, who, due to her petite size, was a few inches shorter than him, even wearing heels. Her blonde hair shone when backed by the afternoon sunlight and her eyes were wide. She was waiting for him to explain. She wanted to listen. Chuck didn't deserve this, and he wasn't even sure he wanted it. But it felt good for someone to give him the benefit of the doubt, to not draw conclusions, to allow him to speak before leaving, so he stayed.

"We need to talk," he said, wondering what the hell he was going to say.

She nodded, still looking at him in that way of hers. "Yes, we do." She slipped a gentle arm around his waist, and it felt constricting. For the first time Chuck felt weighed down by the lies he'd told, and also for the first time, he didn't have a scheme to get him out of a situation. He'd given all that up when he decided to start over.

"But…" Chuck sighed. "Can we maybe go back to my place first? I'm not really feeling well." He feigned nausea, which wasn't really that far off considering the way his emotions were tumbling inside him. But really what he needed was time to think.

"Of course." Eva slid her hand from around his waist, grasping sliding it into the crook of his arm. Slowly, she helped him step down from the curb, still a challenge considering how it made the pain from his injury shoot up all the way through his body. They began to make their way across the street, until a cab screeched to a stop inches from their feet. Chuck turned to scoff at the driver, but then froze. The window of the backseat was rolled down, and he could see its passenger. Clad in a pink dress and a straw sun hat, it was Blair, his Blair.

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Blair stared out the window, trying to force her heart from beating wildly. Was that Chuck? Her Chuck? Dressed in what looked like a plain, dirty waiter's uniform and his arm linked with a suspiciously non-hookerish-looking blonde girl, he seemed nothing like the Chuck Bass she knew from back home. That Chuck wore suits and bowties. He liked brunettes. He worked only in an oversize office on Wall Street and he was in love with _her_.

But it was really him, she could see it in his slightly messy dark hair, soft pale skin despite the hot summer sun, and the look on his face and in his eyes as he stared back at her. Her heart started pounding even more frantically as she took in every inch of him, remembering how his arms had felt wrapped around her waist, his body pressed against hers and his lips on her breasts. She remembered room services brunches in bed and long, romantic walks in the park in the winter. Bouquets of peonies, boxes of jewelry, the comfortable way it felt to have him breathing steadily on her neck as he slept, like everything was right in the world.

But now here he was. She had come to Paris to escape him, and clearly he was doing some escaping of his own. No one back home had heard from him in months, and therefore she couldn't place why his right hand was clutching a cane (the likes of which Serena hadn't even noticed) and why he was dressed like he had spent all day performing hard labor or, at the very least, customer service. And she couldn't decide…was this just another one of his schemes? Or was this really the real Chuck? Permenant? It didn't seem possible that he would alter himself so drastically, but it was impossible to tell, because his eyes looked numb as she caught them again. For once in her life, she couldn't read him, and it scared her.

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Chuck was sure he was about to be sick. Just knowing Blair was here somewhere in Paris was enough to make the butterflies in his stomach turn wild, but having her right there in front of him, after months of not seeing her, not speaking to her and attempting not to think of her. After things had ended so badly between them. After he'd almost died and she'd had no idea. He couldn't believe his luck to be able to see her again.

And he also couldn't believe his stupidity. What was he supposed to do now? All he wanted more than anything in the world was to go to her, wrap her in his arms like nothing had changed, and switch back to how things used to be. But sadly enough, he was, first off, basically crimpled with a limp and a cane, and second, on the arm of a girl who he had come to grow quite fond of, despite her extreme non-Blairness and the fact that he had no strong romantic feelings for her whatsoever.

And third, she didn't even want him anymore. She had said it herself. _"Don't say her name! Or anything else to me. Ever again_."

He knew what she deserved, and it was better than him. It was certainly better than everything he used to be, and still better than everything he was trying to be now. He had made the choice to not be who he was anymore, and along with that decision to give up his old life came the decision to give up her. And that had been the one hardest of all to make.

But since he'd made it and was too afraid to look back, Chuck turned away and continued limping across the street, Eva in tow, as Blair's cab honked its horn and sped off in the other direction, seperating the two once again, despite the frantic beating of both of their hearts.

"Are you all right?" Eva asked, once they had made it to the other curb. She offered a hand and helped Chuck up, running a hand down his arm where he'd pushed up his shirt to cope with the heat. Her sweetly melodic accent sounded in his ears, and he turned to her with a smile that felt more like a grimace.

"I'm fine. It was just a…nothing." Chuck tried to widen his smile, and leaned in for a kiss. He pulled her closer in an attempt to distract her, and it worked as she deepened the kiss and then pulled away, laughing against his lips.

"Come on, let's go to your apartment and then we can talk, yes?" Eva leaned in to him a bit, her pretty smile sparkling up at him.

"Okay." Chuck let out a barely audible sigh as they began to make their way down the sidewalk. The problem was, he was even more shaken than before. The only thing his mind wanted to concentrate on was her, and he was suddenly wondering if deciding to start from ground zero was a naïve idea in the first place. No one could avoid their past.

But, he thought, other people's pasts weren't exactly similar to his. There was only one good thing he had left behind, and that one thing probably didn't even exist anymore.

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**AN: So there it is. :) I hope you guys liked it. :o Just a note: I'm not trying to make Eva a villian or anything in this story, but it's not my intention to make her and Chuck's interactions sweet and rootable, either, lol. I want to show that she's a nice girl, he just doesn't feel that strongly about her in a romantic way. Just some clarification, if that didn't come through in the writing. Which I hope it did. But. Please review. :) I love you all!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **No, I don't own Gossip Girl, because if I did, none of the things I'm writing about would even be happening in the first place.

**AN: Okay...this chapter was near impossible to write. I knew exactly what I wanted to happen, but I probably wrote about five versions of everything everyone said. I felt like I was just writing myself in circles with Chuck's thoughts, and ugh...hopefully the next one won't be as difficult, lol. This chapter was originally supposed to include more, but I felt like I should probably split it up. So as of now, this story is going to be five parts, plus an epilogue. Not exactly the short one I had in mind, but whatever. :) **

**Thank you to: xoxochuckandblairxoxo**, **ChairLoveK**, **chairlovforever**, **gleefulvall**, **awakeningezgi**, **Krazy4Spike**, **spottielight**, **HnM skinnys **and **HJiloveyou**. Keep reviewing, guys. ;)

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**OBSTRUCTION. [**ob. struct. tion.**]** noun. a thing that impedes or prevents passage or progress; an obstacle or blockage. ie; changing who you are requires blocking out all of yourself.

Serena reached into the closet, yanking out two dresses on wooden hangers. "So, what do you think? Should I go with the Marc Jacobs or the Dior?" She waved the two dresses in front of her, standing in front of the mirror and holding them up to her silk-robe-clad body. Blair, who had uncharacteristically gotten ready more quickly, was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, fiddling with a glass of champagne. "I mean, the Marc Jacobs is more revealing…"

The girls were getting ready for a party that Serena was throwing to celebrate the end of summer. Or the beginning of fall. Or something. Or nothing, really. It was more of an excuse for them to dress up and have some drinks with some of the cute guys they'd met during their summer abroad. But Blair's mind wasn't exactly on French boys. There was another one in particular that she was ruminating over.

Serena giggled and looked back at the mirror, contrasting the floating layers of light green fabric of one dress with the glittery black draping of the other. She sighed, indecisive. "Maybe I shouldn't wear a dress at all…" she yanked open the closet door again and began sorting through the racks of pants, pulling out a pair of J. Brand jeans and then some black silk Chanel shorts.

Blair tapped her freshly manicured fingernails against the rim of her glass impatiently. "Come on, S, can we just go already? You're hosting this party, and I don't think the people at it are going to think any more highly of Americans if we show up two hours late."

Serena sighed again, more heavily this time, and threw the clothes she had been pulling out onto the impeccably made bed. "Relax, B. It's only five o'clock. Besides, this is usually your favorite part of the night. What's gotten into you?" She bent down and began to look through the shoes on the floor, lined up like little soldiers from flats to platform wedges.

Blair honestly wasn't sure. She had no idea why seeing Chuck earlier had left her with such an unsettled feeling, and she still wasn't sure if she should even mention it to Serena. She knew she wouldn't approve of the fact that her heart had raced as soon as she'd caught his eyes, the way she'd spent the better part of her afternoon trying not to think about how he'd looked different. His clothes, the way he was limping, the look in his eyes, like he was lost and waiting for something. Waiting for her…

"Serena, Chuck's here." She blurted out, the words falling out of her mouth in a frantic accident. She inwardly cursed as soon as she said them, physically bracing herself for the inevitable reaction. Blair Waldorf could take anyone, but the particular subject of Chuck made her feel weak. And she hated herself for it, because she was supposed to hate him. She did hate him. Or at least, she tried to. But that didn't mean she didn't care where he'd been, what he'd been doing, if he was okay. All of those things still mattered to her, even though they weren't together.

Serena finally turned her attention to Blair, standing up fully and shutting the closet door. A pair of velvet-covered Louboutins dangled from her fingers. She closed her eyes, like what she was about to say was going to be hard for her. "I know. I saw him…before I met up with you."

"What?" Blair snapped, standing up. "How? Were you ever going to tell me this?"

"Honestly, B, probably not." Serena crossed her arms and cocked one hip to the side, that defiant position that she always took on when she was being challenged. "A friend I made last summer told me that he saw him working in a café. Chuck. Working. Blair, I think this is just another one of his schemes. I don't want him to hurt you."

Blair shook her head, processing this information slowly. "He was working in a café." She let out a short, incredulous laugh, not sure yet whether to be amused or worried. "And the cane?"

Serena had turned her attention back to the dresses, and lifted up the sequined Marc Jacobs as she turned to look at Blair. "What?" She ran her fingers over the scratchy surface. "Maybe this is too much."

"He had a cane with him, S." Blair stood up, stomped over, snatched the dress from her friend's hand, and, throwing it on the bed, replaced it with the Dior. "What do you think happened?"

Serena shrugged as she made her way to the bathroom to change. "It's probably just another accessory. You know Chuck."

_Yes, I do, and this isn't like him. _Blair couldn't shake the thought from her head. Serena thought he was just messing around, but Blair had always had the never-fail ability to read a situation, and she wasn't sure that her best friend was right about what was going on with him. "Wait," Blair called out as Serena was about to shut the bathroom door. She reached down and dug her fingers into the soft blanket at the end of the bed, almost ashamed. "The girl with him…" She couldn't resist asking.

"His girlfriend." Serena shook her head, obviously not buying it. She shut the door, and Blair could hear her tossing her robe to the floor and slipping into the dress.

_Ugh, that asshole! _"Or at least someone pretending to be!" The comment sparked something in Blair. How could he have a girlfriend so fast? Was she really that easy to get over?

But she couldn't be. This had to be a game. It was always a game. "You're right, Serena. He's working as a _waiter_." Blair laughed, but it didn't reach her eyes. "That's not Chuck. He couldn't have changed that much."

Blair stood up straight and grabbed her champagne flute, taking a large, un-ladylike swig. But even the alcohol couldn't shake Blair's feeling that maybe the cane wasn't just an accessory, the girl was really his girlfriend, and she was wrong. Maybe Chuck had changed more than either of them could imagine.

But there was only one way to find out.

"Serena!" Blair called. "Invite Chuck to the party."

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When Chuck and Eva reached his apartment, he pushed open the door and limped his way in, dropping his cane next to the couch and sitting down hard. Eva joined him, leaning close enough that he could smell the sweet orange notes of her perfume. He leaned back, trying to collect himself. "Listen, Eva…" he began, still not sure whether to lie or not. The old Chuck Bass wouldn't be sitting here doing this, because he would never have gotten himself into this situation. But the new Chuck Bass had, and the idea of dealing with it was completely foreign to him.

With a deep breath, Chuck tried to calm his nerves and carefully, awkwardly slid an arm around Eva's narrow, silk-covered shoulders. He felt like maybe being sweet to her would make him seem like less of an ass. "I haven't exactly been honest with you."

Eva's eyes suddenly changed from bright and expectant to harder and darker, and he could feel her place her hand on the couch between them, trying to gain some distance. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…" Chuck looked down at his scuffed dress shoes resting on the cream-colored carpeting, and let his eyes spin around the small one-bedroom apartment. It was decorated simply, somewhat like his old suite at the Palace, only less luxurious and missing whatever it was that made that place seem like an escape. "I'm not really Charles Connors."

Eva stood up abruptly, letting his arm fall onto the couch with a soft thud. Her eyes were flashing with anger, but at least she was giving him a chance to explain. "What?"

Chuck signed, and the words came uncharacteristically fast. He hardly thought about them as they fell from his lips, and as he said each one, it felt like a brick had been lifted off of his shoulders. He hadn't realized what a guilty load he'd been carrying all summer, and to have finally told what he'd been hiding made him feel lighter.

But Eva wasn't sharing that same reaction. Somewhere in during his monologue about Chuck Bass, about Serena, about Blair, about everything, she had turned and was now staring out a window on the opposite wall, her arms folded across her chest. She was angry, Chuck realized, and he'd never seen her angry. It was almost embarassing how clueless this "new start" had left him. It seemed like in every moment he was faced with some sort of situation in which he didn't know what to do.

He stood up and walked to her as best as he could, laying a large hand on her shoulder. She spun around to face him, her hair flying. "Why did you lie to me?"

Chuck shook his head, staring once again at the floor. He was off the rug that the furniture rested on, and underneath his shoes now was scratched old wood. "I don't know. I guess I wanted to be someone else. Things were hard, and I was just…messing up everyone's lives. None of them deserve that."

"And you think change from that person who you used to be is achieved when you pretend you're someone you're not, yes?" Eva's gaze was challenging, and it was odd seeing that expression on the face of a girl who had only ever been kind to him, helping when he was struggling from his injury, allowing him to hold her when he didn't feel like talking. If he was someone else, maybe he could be happy like this.

"No, Eva, I don't." Chuck sighed and rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I just need you to forgive me." He was suddenly overcome with desperation to keep her. She was the only thing that proved significant progress, the girl that proved that he'd altered himself, at least in some small way. "Please?" he managed, even though it was a word he rarely uttered. "I want to be with you."

Eva continued to look at him, her face slightly softened but still untrusting. She allowed Chuck to step towards her and move a lock of blonde hair away from her eyes, although his hands were trembling slightly. "Really? Are you sure you don't want to be with that other girl? Blair is her name?"

Chuck felt like he'd been punched, and he yanked his hand away from her face. Of course he wanted to be with Blair. He'd never wanted anything more. Being away from her for so long had made that desire even stronger. But being with Blair would mean going back to being that old Chuck Bass that ruined everything he touched, so all he said was "no."

* * *

Serena pushed open the bathroom door and poked out her blonde head. The soft waves of her slightly messy hair fell over her shoulders, and she was clad in the flouncy Chanel dress, red lipstick and a disapproving look. "B, do you really think it's a good idea to get involved with Chuck again?"

"I'm not getting _involved _with him, Serena!" Blair sighed, frustrated. All it was was that after their encounter this afternoon, she had a desperate urge to speak to him, to look at him even once, to see why he seemed so different and yet entirely the same, see why he apparently hadn't gone home and wasn't planning to. "Just please invite him, okay?"

Serena ran her fingers through her hair and reached for the hot curling iron that was sitting on the vanity table, twirling a few curls into her thick mane. "I really don't think that's a good idea."

"I can play the game too, S." Blair smirked, and Serena rolled her eyes.

"Blair…"

"_Serena_." Blair grabbed the hotel phone from where it was sitting on the cluttered bedside table and held it out to Serena, stretching the cord to reach her. "Can you just try to reach him?"

"I have his number," Serena sighed, taking the phone. "I got it from the manager at the restaurant where he was working, just in case." She grabbed the large framed satchel that she'd been carrying that day and pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper, looking at down at the quickly scrawled digits as she dialed.

Blair nodded, suddenly a bit uneasy at the idea of hearing his voice or even having someone talk to him where she could hear. Her heart thumped and she managed to to gasp, "Why did you want to talk to him, anyway?"

Serena held the phone to her ear, and Blair gulped down the rest of her champagne. "To tell him to stay away from you."

Blair set her glass down hard, almost cracking the stem. Normally she would feel supported from Serena's interference, and lucky that she had a friend that cared so much, but right now she couldn't help but be annoyed. As much as it shouldn't be, Chuck staying away was the last thing she wanted.

* * *

Across the room, Chuck heard his cell phone ring from where it was sitting on the kitchen counter. His and Eva's eyes were still locked when he heard the familiar tone, and at its sound he turned away from her, almost grateful for the interruption. "One minute." Chuck grabbed his cane from where it was lying on the floor, and, leaning on it, stepped over to the tiled kitchen. He grabbed the phone and flipped it open, seeing that an unknown number was flashing on the screen.

"Hello?" Chuck leaned an arm onto the countertop, resting on his elbow and staring out one of the large windows that framed the dining area. His confusion about the phone call was answered instantly when he heard the voice on the other end of the line.

"Chuck. It's Serena." She spoke fast and plainly, and there was complete silence in the background. "Blair asked me to call you."

Chuck glanced cautiously at Eva across the room. Even hearing her name made his heart speed up and his hands shake. "Wait, Blair asked you?" He said it in a whisper, both because of Eva and because of the fact that his voice was trembling almost as much as the rest of him.

"Yes." Chuck heard Serena sigh on the other end of the line. "I'm hosting a party tonight, just a sort of end-of-summer thing at this guy's apartment. And Blair wants you to come, God knows why."

Chuck almost choked. He felt nauseous at the idea of seeing her, yet incredibly excited too. It had been so long since he'd even spoken to her, heard her voice…seen her up close, every bit of her. God, he wished he could see every bit of her again. But even though he couldn't, Chuck couldn't resist. "Okay," he said, without even thinking about it. He could barely concentrate as he scrawled down the address that Serena relayed to him before hanging up with another loud sigh.

As he stared down at the paper, Eva caught his eye from across the room, and he was almost ashamed at the thoughts that had just been running through his head. He walked over to her slowly, clutching the paper, and looked her in the eyes.

Eva had taken a seat, perching on the arm of a chair. Her arms were still crossed, and the look on her face was slightly disappointed. "Blair again?"

Chuck exhaled. As much as he didn't want to hurt someone who had only ever been sympathic to him (not that he hadn't before, but he'd always horribly regretted it), he, again, didn't know what to do. Was this a sign that he should give up this trying to be new and go back to the familiarity and comfort of his old life, even though he'd left it incredibly jumbled? Should he stay with this attempted new start and these new, albeit different, things?

A compromise, Chuck decided, was best. So he spoke gently. "No, it was my stepsister." It felt unfamiliar to say that, having not spoken about his family or makeshift one with Eva at all until this afternoon. "She invited me to a party, and I'd like you to come."

Eva's glittering eyes were still distrusting, and she straightened out her pencil skirt before looking at him. "I don't know, Charles." The name rolled off her tongue from familiarity. "Chuck. You still lied to me, and for a long time. I don't know you."

"You can get to," Chuck insisted. "Just please come with me. I'll send a car for you in an hour." God, that felt so good to say. _I'll send a car_. But Eva didn't sound so excited about that phrase. In fact, she looked absolutely resentful of it. But still, as she picked up her bag and turned for the door, he could hear a "fine" slip from between her lips, and he was satisfied.

Sitting down, Chuck sighed, letting his nerves take over. They made him feel too restless to sit, so he limped into the small bedroom closet and pulled out the suitcase of his old clothes that he'd neglected all summer long. Pulling out a luxurious, perfectly tailored brown suit, Chuck held it to his body and let his first true smile grace his lips. He wasn't entirely sure why he was doing this. The whole point of being someone else was to help him move on from everything, all the troubles and lonliness of his whole life. And it seemed like he was throwing it all away now, like he'd thrown it away the second he'd confessed to Eva.

Chuck slipped off his vest to try on the brown suit jacket. He'd just try it out, he decided. If things were still as horrible as they had been before, if everyone still hated him and no one cared and being Chuck Bass still made him do horrible things, he could leave it again. He could put away the suit and stay in the apartment and go to work on Monday and devote himself to Eva. The idea made him both sad and angry, but he had no choice. The secret was out. The old Chuck Bass wasn't who he wanted to be, but he was afraid it wouldn't work to just be a new version of him. Everyone would still detest that person. But if they did, all he had to do was disappear again, back to here, back to this. It wouldn't matter, he had nothing to lose.

* * *

**AN: Well, there it is, lol. I felt like if I didn't put this chapter up now, I would just keep editing and editing and never move on, so ta-da. I would like any feedback that you have, especially having to do with how I'm portraying Chuck's thoughts about the whole situation, because my mind is completely screwed up about that. But then again, I just saw Inception and my mind is kind of screwed up in general right now...lol. But yeah, please tell me anything you have to say about how I'm portraying how he feels. And anything you have to say at all. :) Please review! Thanks guys!**


	4. Author's Note

Hey guys. Sorry that this isn't a new chapter. I just wanted to post a quick note to let you know why there hasn't been an update for a while and why another one might not come for a week or so. :( I was at a school workshop last week, and this week I'm going out of town with my family and some friends, so I might not have that much time to write. Also, my computer had to be sent away to fix a problem with my disk drive, and I'm not going to get it back for a week or so. I have to use my mom's laptop, and I was an idiot and forgot to save the file onto a drive so that I could access it on this computer. Plus the computers all messed up with documents and stuff, so I'll have to email it to another computer to upload even this. But I'll try to work without it as best as I can, because this next chapter is a long one and I'm almost done and I really want to post it, lol. So just bear with me, I'll get back on a regular posting schedule ASAP, promise.


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **No, I don't own Gossip Girl, because if I did, none of the things I'm writing about would eve be happening in the first place.

**AN: I'm SO SO SO sorry this took such a long time. It was partly because there was going to be another really long scene on the end of this, and I wanted it to be perfect, for reasons you'll see after you read this...so it was taking me forever. Plus, like I said in my author's note, my computer was in repairs and then I was on vacation, so...yep. They'll be another chapter out within the week, for sure. So enjoy! :) **

**Thank you to: xoxochuckandblairxoxo**, **Chairforever**, **Krazy4Spike**, **SaturnineSunshine**, **HnM skinnys**, **ChairLoveK **and **awakeningezgi** for reviewing ch. 3 and **JuseaPeterson **for reviewing ch. 1 and ch. 2. Thanks so much, you guys. :) Keep reading and reviewing!

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**OBSTRUCTION. [**ob. struc. tion.**]** noun. a thing that impedes or prevents passage or progress; an obstacle or blockage. ie; **you can never stop yourself from feeling.**

The party was bustling by the time Serena and Blair arrived. The apartment was beautifully decorated, covered in effortless, luxurious fabrics and furniture, and full of people dressed in gorgeous designer vintage. Wide French doors were flung open to the early evening light, revealing an intimate balcony that looked out onto the city below and similarly elegantly crumbling buildings straight ahead. Although it was still somewhat early and the summer light would last for another hour at least, people were drinking and dancing as if it was two o'clock in the morning.

The girls entered with arms linked, the soft ruffles of Serena's green dress standing out against the glittery swirls of Blair's cream-colored one. As half the guys in the room stared admiringly at the girls, and the other half tried not to as they had their arms wrapped around jealous girlfriends, Serena and Blair headed for the bar. As they settled themselves on the high stools and were immediately handed two martinis, one of the appreciative guys came over and in French-accented English asked Serena for a dance. Blair rolled her eyes as she left, rubbing her thumb along the rim of her glass and glancing around the room as she waited.

* * *

Chuck drove up to Eva's apartment at exactly six o'clock, relishing in the comfort of the backseat of the car he'd called. It wasn't exactly on the same level as his limo – the sides of the seats were slightly torn from constant use and the outside wasn't as well-shined as he might have liked – but the air-conditioning was cold and it certainly beat limping down the sidewalks, especially since he was wearing the brown suit that he'd picked out and an unworn new tie.

Eva was waiting outside the simple building, dressed in an equally simple but beautiful light pink silk blouse and high-waisted little floral skirt. He didn't have the heart to mention that most people at the party would likely be dressed to the nines and she would definitely stick out, because it didn't honestly matter to him. The point was she was his new girlfriend, no matter what she was wearing, and that was what he had to prove.

Chuck stepped out of the car and walked around to her, liking the look in her eyes as she appraised his suit, tie and clean dress shoes. He felt powerful again for a second, like the old Chuck Bass that could easily charm anyone from a beautiful women to a roomful of old, grouchy businessmen. But the feeling quickly faded when he realized Eva's eyes were still cold. She was glaring at him slightly as she clutched a worn tan leather bag close to her.

"I don't know about this, Chuck," she remarked, eying the car and white-gloved driver distrustfully.

"Come on, just give it a chance." Chuck held out his hand, and she hesistated before taking it. He gently nudged her in the direction of the open door, and she sighed heavily, as if getting into the car would be going against some sort of moral obligation of hers. Chuck could help but be a bit annoyed with her judging, but he softened his voice enough to coax her into the leather-covered backseat, where they sat slightly awkwardly for the duration of the ride. Chuck drummed his fingers on the window nervously, anticipating a close view of Blair and perhaps even a conversation, more than he'd hoped for anything all summer.

But when he arrived at the party and stepped out of the elevator, the apartment was so thickly crowded with people, antique furniture and overturned drinks that he couldn't even catch a glimpse of her. He turned his head in all directions, trying to search subtly, but with Eva on his arm and looking at him quizzically, he couldn't exactly gawk at everyone in view. Suddenly, the crowd cleared a bit and Chuck saw Serena perched at the bar, sipping a colorful drink and flirting madly with a scruffy, dark-haired guy.

"Uh…" Chuck looked down at Eva and then back at Serena ahead of him. She would know where Blair was. "Why don't we go get a drink?"

Eva nodded, seemingly leaning into him a bit despite herself. He steered them over to the bar, and they both slid onto the seats. Chuck ordered a scotch for himself, almost excited to taste the familiar liquid after neglecting it for the past couple of months, and Eva agreed to a glass of champagne. Serena's back was towards him, but as soon as Eva was distracted with her drink, he elbowed her lightly. This caused her to turn around angrily, her loose curls hitting him in the face. "Hey, excuse me – oh, it's you." The look on her face was one of disgust.

Chuck leaned in close. "Do you know where Blair is?" He let his caramel eyes flick around the room for what felt like the thousandth time.

Serena sighed, turning back to her tortured-artist type. She tilted her head in the direction of the floor-to-ceiling windows opposite them, where Blair was chatting up her own guy, a drink in hand and a pretty, coquettish smile on her face. Chuck felt his heart thud to a stop when he looked at her, with her dress glowing in the deepening twilight, her hair swept back in regal curls, and a light sheen of a summer tan on her bare shoulders. But it started up a slow, sad beat when he realized the guy next to her, probably closer than he'd ever be again. It made him miserable, because _she _could be happy alone, she could be happy with herself, with being herself, with being with other people. He only experienced that kind of bliss when he was with her.

Chuck sighed, unable to keep the corners of his mouth from turning down a little as he rotated back around and glowered at his drink. "Of course."

Eva reached over the hand that wasn't holding her champagne and slid it into his absentmindedly. It must have felt natural to her, to hold onto him like that, but for Chuck it just felt strange. But he didn't move, because now there was nowhere for him to go.

* * *

The night dragged on slowly for both Chuck and Eva as they continued to sit at the bar. Chuck nursed drink after drink, attempting to get inebriated for the first time since that night in Prague, to ignore what was happening to him and around him. He had no idea who he was anymore, and Blair…Blair knew who she was, and that person wanted to be with someone else. This thought made him feel like brooding, so that's what he did feeling the familiar burn of the scotch sliding down his throat over and over again as Eva sat next to him. She seemed equally as miserable, staring into her empty champagne glance and hardly glancing at the party in full swing around them, and finally she stood up.

"I'm not going to do this anymore, okay?" Eva swung her brown leather purse over her shoulder and adjusted her blouse, preparing to leave. "You're preocuppied with that girl Blair."

Chuck set down his glass and clenched his jaw, turning to Eva and trying not to growl out his next words. "Blair has nothing to do with this."

Eva shook her head sadly. "She does. You understand, yes?"

Chuck nodded slowly, studying her face to gauge her emotions. He couldn't; she seemed perfectly cool and collected, although he imagined she was probably raging somewhere deep inside. How did he always end up hurting everyone he cared about, everyone he associated with? It was like he was cursed, or something. Untouchable.

Eva turned to go, but paused to finish. "This isn't my world. But it's yours, and it's hers. And I don't want to be caught in some sort of love triangle."

Chuck stood up too, shaking his head. "It wouldn't be, Eva. I'd try…" he grasped for words, but his angry and intoxicated mind couldn't come up with any, so he just reached for her hands. He couldn't lose this. What would happen now? Now there was no pretense, no act. He'd changed, but not really. Chuck Bass was still Chuck Bass, and he hated that person.

Eva smiled, and Chuck was confused as to why she seemed so settled. "I know you would, Chuck. You have. But you haven't tried hard enough, not completely." She slid Chuck's hands off of hers and reached into her bag, pulling out a hotel room key card. She pressed it into his palm. "If you want to try again."

Chuck stared after her, beweildered, as she weaved her way through the dancing, drinking, laughing cloud of guys in starched shirts and girls in pastel and floral summer dresses. He slid back up into his seat, set down the key card, propped up his elbows and leaned his forehead over his closed fists, raising only one finger to signal for another drink.

* * *

With a sigh, Blair politely excused herself from her conversation. The guy that was flirting with her, Ben (she couldn't help but remember another Ben who had offered to escort her onto the Bass helicopter years ago) was good-looking, but he was coming on a bit strong, calling her "the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen" and offering to buy her drink after drink. But she was too distracted to hook up with anyone tonight, even if she'd been that kind of girl.

Blair set down her drink on a nearby glass-topped table, looking out the large windows at the gorgeously-colored sunset they framed. Pushing through a crowd of gyrating couples, Blair managed to make it out onto the empty balcony. She breathed in the warm summer night air and took in the swirling pinks and purples of the lowering sun, pondering where Chuck might be. A slight breeze ruffled her hair, and she wondered if he'd even come. Maybe he had, but he was too distracted by his new girlfriend to care where she was. Or worse, she'd tempted him away with her probably beautiful, lilting French accent, and they were having a romantic night alone together.

With another low, slow sigh, Blair picked up her curls, piling them on top of her head and then letting them fall slowly. She leaned an elbow on the wrought-iron railing and let her eyes scan the darkening city, waiting for something and nothing.

* * *

Chuck couldn't help watching her, now that she was free from the clutches of her hopeful random. He unabashedly glanced over his shoulder, seeing when she lifted up her curls to cool off, revealing the nape of her neck, his ultimate weakness. He saw her turn and lean her lower back against the railing, rumpling her dress to scan the room as his heart raced. He saw her looking out at the now-dark glowing city and wondered what she was thinking. He wished he could go to her and hold her again, just for a moment.

He couldn't, though, because it was obvious that she'd just invited him here to throw whatever guys she'd moved on to in his face. He knew he'd hurt her. It was hard to stop thinking about, and it was obvious she wasn't going to let him. But now that things with Eva were questionably over, or at least on hold…as much as it disproved everything he'd been trying to do all summer…it was hard to resist the fact that the image of her in a soft dress, framed by the Parisian skyline, was one of the most beautiful, sensual sights he'd ever seen.

Suddenly, Chuck heard someone slide into the now-empty seat next to him. He turned slowly to them and realized he was face to face with Serena. But, oddly enough, her face was more gentle than it had been each time he'd seen her here. She looked regretful and remorseful, but Chuck just stared back at his half-full glass of scotch (he'd had so many that he'd lost count of numbers), swirling it around on the table and watching the amber liquid turn.

"I'm really sorry, Chuck." Serena said after a moment, and Chuck looked at her with surprise.

"_You're _sorry?" Chuck couldn't help barking out the words incredulously, and his mouth turned up at the corners in a familiar smirk. "What for, exactly?"

"For acting like a total bitch today." Serena laughed, shaking out her long blonde mane, and then stopped with a long sigh. "I didn't come to see you just because of Blair."

"Oh." Chuck tapped his fingers on the table, unable to keep the anxiety out of his posture. "Why, then?"

Serena shrugged, the strap of her dress sliding off of one tanned shoulder. It was ripped and rumpled from dancing, her usual imperfect perfection. "I was worried, Chuck." She said this softly, carefully. "We all were. We didn't know if you were hurt or sick or where you'd gone. And when I heard that you were in Paris…I thought maybe I could figure out why you'd never called, not even Nate."

Chuck felt slightly warm, but attributed it to the jacket he was wearing despite the heat instead of the slight redness that was spreading across his cheeks at hearing that they _cared_. Despite his being "Chuck Bass" and breaking hearts and ruining lives, including his own, there were people out there that still had his back. He'd never felt anything so _nice_.

"And it looks like you didn't escape unharmed after all…" Serena glanced pointedly at the cane that was leaning against the side of the bar and back at Chuck, a slight touch of distress in her eyes. "What happened to you?"

Chuck gingerly turned around on his stool, avoiding her gaze. It wasn't that it mattered who he told, anyone with eyes could see by the way that he carried himself that he wasn't in perfect health, but telling someone that knew him so well that he'd almost died just felt so personal. Too much had happened tonight, he wasn't sure he could handle a confessional right now.

So instead, he found himself watching Blair again. He saw the moonlight and the city lamps glowing off of her lightly bronzed skin, and the jeweled necklace she was wearing sparkling as well. She turned her head to the side and he was just able to see her picturesque profile – sharp and soft and daunting and ethereally gorgeous all at once.

Serena followed his dark eyes to where they gazed out onto the balcony. She glanced at him out of the corner of hers, seeing the way he seemed entranced in Blair and the way that simply looking at her could make him strangely, unusually flustered. "You still want her, don't you?"

Chuck choked and ripped his eyes away from the sight ahead of him. "What?"

"Blair. You still care about her." Serena studied him, cocking her head to one side as if trying to gauge the range of emotions on his face.

Chuck turned back to the bar, abandoning his view for one of the clean marble tabletop and his crystal tumbler. "She…I…" Chuck pushed the glass away in a sudden fit of courage, looking right at Serena. "She said love makes everything simple. But this doesn't feel simple."

Serena's eyes widened slightly as she took in a truth that she already knew. "You love her. Even after…everything?"

Chuck nodded, looking back down to study the swirling colors on the top of the bar. He could hardly raise his eyes to look at her, fearing for what he might see in hers. If she told him after this to stay away from Blair, he would feel like he had to do it, or risk losing everything he supposedly still had back home.

"Wow." Serena turned away too, looking back at the champagne glass in her own hand. After a few beats of silence, she set it down. "You should go over there."

Chuck snorted out a laugh. "What?"

"Go over to Blair. She asked me to invite you here, and I don't know why, but I guess it means she wants to see you." Serena stood up, teetering a bit on her five-inch heels. "And you want to see her. So go." She gave him a slight nudge on the back with the heel of her hand, grinned, and then turned, spinning back into the crowd. Chuck stared after her. He could take her advice, or he could not. But he couldn't just sit here any longer, drinking glass after glass alone, so Chuck stood up, picked up his cane and pushed as best as he could through the throng of people, making his way towards towards the glowingly beautiful figure in the center of the balcony.

* * *

**AN: So there it is. The Chuck and Blair scene will be coming very, very soon, I promise. It's mostly written already, I just want it to be right. :) So when that's done I'll update. Thanks guys, please review! :) **


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **No, I don't own Gossip Girl, because if I did, none of the things I'm writing about would even be happening in the first place.

**AN: Okay...finally. I'm so sorry, I got extremely busy. And then certain spoilers came out and I was uninspired. But I just decided to contiue on the path I was already taking this story, so here it is. This chapter has about a thousand different movie references (let me know if you caught any of them, because that would be pretty cool, lol), because I imagined the whole thing playing out like scenes as I was writing it. I really don't know how that's going to translate to the actual words, but I think it works pretty okay, lol.**

**Thank you to: HJiloveyou**, **gleefulvall**, **HnM skinnys**, **CrazyBitch10**, **out of original names.**, **JuseaPeterson**, **weasleywarrior **and **hardtoswallow **for reviewing ch. 4, and **JuseaPeterson **for reviewing ch. 3 as well. :)

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Breathing hard, Chuck moved carefully through the room of gorgeous, gyrating bodies. The guys in casually undone suits clutched glasses of scotch or champagne while the girls' summer dresses swirled flirtatiously. Everyone was laughing or gossiping in either French or think accents. He edged his way around them and towards the French doors that looked out onto the darkened night. Stepping out onto the balcony, Chuck breathed in the faintly humid summer air. The sun had set long ago, but the lights of the city caused the balcony to glow with a faint light that silhouetted the stunning figure ahead of him.

His shoes slightly scuffed the ground, causing a scraping noise. Blair must have heard it, because she straightened slightly. Turning, she looked slowly over her shoulder, shock registering on her features when she realized who stood behind her.

Chuck's breath caught in his throat as he looked at her up close for the first time in nearly a hundred days. She was even more beautiful now, with a few locks of hair escaped from where she'd pulled it up, her cheeks flushed and dewy from the heat, and her brown eyes wide, surrounded by dark, curly lashes. He took in the way her dress skimmed perfectly over the curves of her body and the way her hands were clasped nervously in its folds. He looked at her in a reverie until somehow he managed to shake himself out of it and look down and to the side, studying the intricate swirls of the balcony railing.

"Chuck?" Blair's voice was somehow both soft and accusatory at the same time. "You're here..."

Blair wasn't sure what to say. It felt both so completely strange to be here, looking at him, and not be shooting snarky remarks about what he'd done in his direction. He looked older, almost, but not in a bad way. Almost like his eyes had been darkened and visage shaped by some hardship since she'd seen him last. His face was a mixture of sadness and pain and relief, the same expression she'd seen when he'd come to her the day after his father's funeral a year and a half ago, and she had the sudden urge to wrap him in her arms and comfort him, like she had then. But she didn't, of course, because the distance between them was greater now. A lot had been done, a lot said, that couldn't be taken back or changed, even if they both wanted it to be.

Chuck nodded slowly, trying not to meet her eyes with the irrational fear that he'd been sucked into some vortex from which he could never escape. But somehow he felt like he already had been. "You know I can't resist you," he drawled in the same way he always had, but it fell flat this time, felt different. Both of them knew that this wasn't the time to be making smarmy jokes. He took a step closer to her, shuffling on the stone ground, and Blair's eyes immediately shot to his cane.

"What is that?" Her voice raised an octave as she remembered his aid and saw the limp that required it. "What happened to you?"

Chuck tensed up and accidentally dropped the cane to the ground, leaning awkwardly onto the railing for support. Blair turned to face him, and the golden highlights in her hair were illuminated by Paris spread out behind her. "That's, uh..." he gave a forced, uncomfortable smile. "A long story." It's not that he didn't want her to know, it was just that he didn't want her to feel like he was trying to get her pity, which he knew without a doubt that he didn't deserve.

"Chuck, you know there's no use hiding anything from me." Blair shook her head slowly, another ringlet falling from her half-up hairstyle. She bit her lip and tilted her head to the side, trying to get a better view of his face to figure out what he was thinking.

Chuck turned away to stare out at the flower-covered balconies of the apartments across from them, swallowing hard and clenching his jaw. "Because there's no way you could possibly hate me more than you do right now?" Coming out of someone else's mouth, the words would read as sarcastic, not sad. But Chuck's voice was just hoarse, wounded and regretful, and, despite herself, Blair's heart sunk.

"No," she said gently. "Because you know I'm going to find it out anyway." As soon as the words left her mouth, Blair mentally slapped herself. What was she doing? She wasn't feeling _bad _for him. Chuck Bass? She should have just answered yes. But there was something so different about him. It was like what had happened between them had snapped something in him, like it was a last straw in some way, and now he'd seen too much to be who he used to be. He seemed so lost.

After a long, deep sigh, Chuck turned to her and managed, all in one breath, "I was mugged and shot in an alley in Prague, about a week after I saw you last. They wanted money but they wouldn't let me take them to a bank and there was a struggle, so..." Chuck let out a breath, his eyes searching Blair's wide, shocked ones for a moment before looking back out at the city. "I was told that would have died if I hadn't been found exactly when I had."

He could hear Blair's sharp intake of breath at those words and turned to look at her. She stood still a careful distance away, chest heaving with surprise. "Oh my god. _Chuck_." She reached for him then, blindly grasping, and settled for wrapping a hand around his arm, as if making sure that he was really there. Chuck would never admit how right it felt to have her touching him again, and despite the circumstances he felt the most comfortable he'd been all summer. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell anyone?"

Chuck shrugged. "Because I didn't want anyone to know. You told me to never speak to you again, and the others...I didn't think it would have mattered."

Blair shook her head fervently, her heart pounding in her chest. "That's not true. Lily, Eric, Nate...they've all been so worried." She looked at him, then, leaning with both elbows on the railing, his eyes staring blankly ahead as if he was afraid to meet hers.

Chuck nodded in affirmation of this, albeit reluctantly. "Serena told me." He let out a small, distrustful laugh. "I was surprised, to say the least."

Chuck, people care about you. No matter what," she took a deep breath before continuting "happened...there are people back home that love you."

"Like you?" The words slipped from between his lips without a thought, but he instantly regretted them. His grip on the balcony tightened so much that he could feel it cutting into the palms of his hands, bracing himself for her reaction.

"What?" Blair shook her head, not in a negative motion but a shy one, looking down at her glossy nude Louboutin heels.

"Do you still love me?" Chuck asked quickly. He kept staring out at the scenery below, as if it would hurt to look at her.

Blair sighed, half frustrated and half upset. He could see tears glimmering in her wide brown eyes, and it made his heart hurt. "Chuck...that's not fair."

Chuck turned toward her, meeting her tearful eyes with his pained ones. "You're right, I'm sorry." He reached out a hand to take hers, but Blair would only let him graze her fingertips before she pulled her hand away reluctantly and turned back to face the city.

"Where have you been all summer?" she managed after a long moment of silence.

Chuck sighed. "I've kind of been…working."

Blair raised her eyebrows, although she didn't look back at him. "_You _have been working." She said it as a statement rather than a question.

"Yeah." Chuck studied her for a moment before leaning down to pick up his cane, if only to have something to occupy his hands with. When he was standing up straight again, he moved even closer to her. "Listen, Blair." He reached up a hand and let it lightly graze her arm. He could feel her shudder slightly under his touch, and she turned to face him. He gripped her arms with both hands. "I hate myself for hurting you. I hate who I am in…" he took a shaky breath "…in general. I tried being someone completely different, but you're too hard to give up." He let out a little chuckle. "I want to change who I am, for real. No more 'I'm Chuck Bass.' No more hurting the people that I care about." He stopped rubbing his hands up and down her arms for a moment to look straight into her eyes. "No more hurting you."

Blair blinked back at him, the tears from before gone now, but her eyes left glassy and sad. "You can change without changing who you are, Chuck," she said softly.

"No." Chuck shook his head emphatically. "No, I can't. I don't want to be _me_, anymore, Blair!" He clenched his jaw so tightly that he felt like he was going to break it and glared at the skyline, trying to calm himself before snarling, "I _hate _that guy."

This time it was Blair that reached out a hand, rubbing it over his arm comfortingly. She let him breathe hard before saying quietly. "I think I'd miss you, a little bit. Maybe." Her voice was uncharacteristically shy, as if she was afraid to admit any sort of feelings at all.

Chuck turned his head to search her irises, his eyes moving back and forth quickly as he watched her. "Really?"

Blair bit her lip with a small smile. "Really."

And then, without thinking, Chuck leaned in and kissed her. It was gentle at first, but soon grew forceful as they pressed themselves against each other, leaning on the railing that kept them from tumbling onto the glowing streets below. She was struggling him out of his jacket and his hands were grabbing at the tops of her thighs, the tension between them exploding as their lips collided, over and over again. Chuck ran a hand up her arm and pulled the strap of her dress down over her shoulder, exposing the porcelain skin underneath as he leaned down to kiss it. They kissed furiously and passionately, thousands of emotions rushing through their heads.

And then, all of a sudden, Blair shoved him away. She was breathing hard as she pulled the strap back up onto her shoulder, and her hair was mussed and lips red and chapped. There was a flush in her cheeks, and she was stunning. Chuck gripped her arm gently and stroked his thumb up and down it, relishing in the soft feel of her skin. "What's wrong?"

Blair grabbed his wrist, pushing his arm away from her. "Everything about this! You can't just show up here after what you do and expect everything to be okay, Chuck!"

Chuck shook his head wildly, reaching for her again. "No…no, I don't…" But he realized that maybe somewhere deep down inside, he'd hoped that it all would be okay, that everything would turn out like it always had in the past and nothing would have to change. But it was clear now that that was an impossible notion.

"It doesn't matter, Chuck. I can't be with you right now. Or _ever_, probably! There's too much risk, too much…" Blair shook her head, looking searching the ground like maybe it would hold the answer.

"Passion?" Chuck grabbed her hand. "Please, Blair, just listen to me, please. I'll be different, I'll change. I'll be the kind of person that you want to be with, _please_." He was begging now, and it felt strange but familiar. Why did it always come to this?

"Chuck." Blair again grabbed his wrist and again pushed his hand back to him. "You _cannot _change for me. You need to do it for yourself." She backed away from him, shaking her head. "You're so misguided in all of this, you're just going to come out more screwed up than before, if that's even possible."

"What am I supposed to do, Blair?" Chuck's face softened. "Just tell me, what am I supposed to do? What can I do to make you feel the same way about me as you did before, back when…back when you loved me?"

Blair stared at him, her eyes shining and brimming with unshed tears. She opened her mouth to reply, as if she was going to say something heartfelt, but nothing came out. Instead she turned her back to him so he could only see the silhouette of her curls and dress against the dark sky and refused to face him. "Nothing," she choked out.

Chuck looked at her for a long moment. He'd gotten the answer that he probably should have expected, but at the same time, it still stung just as hard as every other horrible thing she'd ever said to him. It stung worse, because this time…this time it felt final. It was permenant.

He gave a small nod, swallowed hard, clenching his jaw, and turned around, grabbing his cane and moving off the deck as slowly as he could, as if she was going to turn and call for him. But by the time he made it to the elevator, he was sure she wasn't.

Raging with sadness and anger and unrepressed fear for the future, he slammed a fist into the to button close the doors and then another one into the gold-mirrored wall of the elevator. His thoughts wild with emotion, he continued banging on the wall until his hand was battered and stung.

Chuck let out a pained noise as he sunk himself to the ground, his entire body aching. He felt as if he could no longer stand, so there he sat, leaning his head back against the wall and squeezing his eyes closed, wishing everything would go away.

It was probably a strange picture to others – Chuck Bass, the playboy billonaire in a perfectly tailored thousand-dollar suit, slumped in the elevator with his cane propped beside him, in a sort of agony – but it was a harsh reality to him. When he somehow found himself in the lobby, he blindly struggled out onto the street and managed to get a cab. To the driver's request in barely intelligible French as to where he was going, Chuck pulled the key card that Eva gave him out of his pocket and threw it into his lap. Then he leaned his forehead on the cool glass window, breathing hard with tears in his eyes, barely in control.

* * *

By the time he arrived at the hotel, Chuck was still shaking but slightly calmer. He managed to pay the driver and make his way through the lobby, taking another elevator up to the fifteenth floor. It was a tall building, towering over the city, and as Chuck walked down the carpeted hallway with closed doors on both sides, he caught a glimpse at the end of the hallway of a large window, framing Paris. It seemed like the light at the end of a tunnel, and Chuck fleetingly wondered how long of a fall it would be before he'd meet concrete.

When he got to room 1532, he tentatively slid the key card into the door and listened to it click and the green light flash before he pushed open the door, hesitating for a moment prior to stepping into the room. It was lit, but dimly, a relaxing, comforting sort of light, although Chuck felt anything but. There were floor to ceiling windows on one wall, a large bed to the right, and a sitting area to the left. The room décor was cream and black and luxurious, and he wasn't sure how Eva had afforded it.

But there she was, sitting with her back to him, her blonde hair spilling over her shoulders and wearing a black cotton robe. She turned when she heard his footsteps scuffing over the carpet, and relief registered in her features when she saw him.

"You came," she said, her eyes lighting up, standing and making her way over to him. She ran her hands over the sides of his body as she embraced him, and Chuck tentatively wrapped his arms around her, letting his chin rest on her shoulder. His eyes were red and face probably streaked with the angry tears he'd hardly felt falling, but she didn't seem to mind. He nodded carefully.

Pulling away, Eva took his hands in hers and leaned in to kiss him, a longer, more seductive kiss than usual. Letting go of him, her small hands moved to the front of her robe, and she untied it, letting it slip off of her shoulders.

"Wait." Chuck shook his head, his voice cracking. "What are you doing?"

Eva smiled. "This," she said, her accent thick over the word as she dropped the robe to the floor to reveal lace-trimmed lingerie. Chuck took a step back, feeling completely filthy.

"Oh, I don't think…" He was shaking his head harder now, wildly. He wouldn't allow his eyes to meet hers. "I can't…"

"Yes, you can." Eva slid her hands under his jacket and shrugged it off of his shoulders, leaning in to kiss him hard. Chuck tried to turn his head, still able to taste Blair on his lips, but he was too numb to make a real effort. So he allowed her to lead him to the bed and remove his shirt, going through the familiar motions because he didn't know what to do. He was lost in confusion.

Soon enough, they were lying on top of each other, wrapped in the silk bedcovers. It should have been an intimate moment, but to Chuck it couldn't have felt more impersonal. Eva kissed him on the check and then the neck, and then came up for air, murmuring a request onto his lips. "Come away with me. Let's go away together, get away from here, yes?"

Chuck's hand found her hip underneath the sheets, nothing but instinctive. He nodded again. He couldn't do otherwise, because this was it. This was all he had left.

Eva's smile sparkled in the soft lights as she leaned down to him again. She touched her lips to kiss softly and they moved together, Chuck's eyes clenched shut in a mixture of sorrow, regret and pain.

"_Nothing_."

* * *

**AN: So, ta-da? CB finally spoke. They'll speak again next chapter, which will be the last chapter. And then there will be an epilogue. Soooo...the movie references...the one where Chuck is in the elevator against the wall with his cane was inspired by a scene in the movie The Aviator (incredible film, just BTW...you should see it, lol), where Howard breaks down in private after a...difficult conversation...it wasn't in an elevator, though. I'm not really sure where it was. And the Chuck punching the elevator came from Revolutionary Road, where Frank what's-his-name (Wheeler?) punches a car... The robe thing was kind of duh...Titanic. (I've been on quite the Leonardo DiCaprio bender lately, if you haven't noticed...) And then the rest came from my mind, really vague inspirations. Although when Chuck says, "I can't," the way I was imagining it was from a scene in something, but I honestly do not remember what movie it was, so I can't tell you that, lmao. Oh, and the Chuck wondering how long the jump from the window would be was from Mal's line near the beginning of Inception... "If I jumped, would I survive?" **

**Okay, so as for the chapter...Chuck and Eva should be by no means rootable...if they are, I'm not doing my job correctly, lol. I was trying to contrast the two scenes, both quite literally with both Blair and Eva's reactions to seeing Chuck in the same structure, and just in general, with the CB scene being very descriptive and emotional and the Chuck/Eva one being kind of raw and blunt. So I hope that worked...um...yeah. I don't know when the next chapter will be up, because I've only written a little bit of it, but I want to finish this story by the time the show comes back. So I have like three weeks, lol. So, yeah, there's my super-long, detailed, unecessary author's note...REVIEW, PLEASEEE. :) **


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